Old tales to tell - new feelings to live
by foolsanddreamer
Summary: First of all : thank you very much for your nice reviews. This is the first time I start a continuing story. Please be patient with me - hope you'll enjoy. Charles Carson has an unexpected visitor at the cottage and Elsie is busy at the Abbey. While he is remembering old times Elsie has to deal with new feelings that come up. Can a ghost of the past haunt their marriage ?
1. Chapter 1

Old tales to tell, new feelings to live

Chapter 1 : the letter

"Charlie, I am leaving! I'll try to be back for your lunch later. But in case I can't make it, I'll send a hallboy with a small snack. Hope that's alright with you," Elsie said, standing at the bottom of the stairs, putting on her gloves.

Charles came out of their bedroom. Although it was an early morning he was already dressed. He looked a bit surprised seeing his wife already in her coat and hat, ready to leave for the Abbey, "Of course it's fine for me. You are a busy woman after all" He pulled his sleeves down. "But you are quite an early bird today. Something special happening at the house?" he asked walking down the stairs.

"Her ladyship is leaving for London early today and before that we need to plan the dinner party on Friday. A few people will stay, special requests for the food ... oh you know it, Charlie. It's getting worse every time. More and more things to be taken care of are coming up with every new party to plan," she said, waved her hand and turned around to walk to the door.

Charles didn't want to let her go without offering his help - a help he knew she would refuse. "Just let me know if I can be of any assistance. Maybe to check the wine cellar for a good drop?"

Elsie laughed while pulling her coat and belt tight, "I know it's your favorite. Your wine. But Mr Barrow is quite good at it now. You taught him well! Now let him go his own way." She took her bag and laid one hand on his lapel while she rose to kiss his cheek.

"I only try to be useful from time to time" he said quietly, almost defensively.

Knowing that she didn't have the time for a sentimental discussion now, Elsie tried to get out of the situation as politely as possible. "Be useful and get some vegetables from your garden to chop later on. I will make us a nice and healthy soup then.," Elsie answered playfully. For a brief moment Charles had a strange feeling that she didn't get his point. Or worse, she didn't want to get it.

"Sure. I will see to it," he answered before he watched her leaving.

By lunchtime he not only had he brought the best vegetables his garden could offer to the kitchen but he had also put on an apron and had started chopping the carrots and onions. When he heard the squeaking gate of the cottage, he cleaned his hands quickly and opened the door while reminding himself to take care of the gate later.

To his surprise and disappointment he saw Albert, the hallboy, instead of his wife.

"Good day, Mr Carson," Albert said with a friendly smile. "Mrs Hughes had to excuse herself, she's still busy at the Abbey and she sent me to bring you some lunch."

Charles took the small package - obviously Mrs Patmore's delicious sandwiches. He couldn't help but wonder why it disturbed him so much that Albert called his wife Mrs Hughes. Of course she was Mrs Hughes at the Abbey. It was his idea to keep things simple after their marriage. But here was their home - he was at home. And in here she was Mrs Carson. At least to him.

"I hope you'll enjoy, Mr Carson," Albert interrupted Charles' thoughts. "I need to be on my way to the village. Mrs Patmore asked me to drop her shopping list off at Mr Bakewell's. And you know how very precise she can be about her meaning of timing." Albert laughed.  
Charles only nodded. He knew Mrs Patmore's habits well and had to admit that he missed working with this loud and chatty person. Something he never thought he would do one day.

"Then be on your way young man. And thank you for keeping an old man alive," Charles added, knowing that Albert was the wrong person he had adressed his sarcasm towards. Albert felt the sadness and loneliness in Charles words, but it wasn't for him to reply to it. Instead he turned around and left only to stop after a few steps and came back to him.

Pulling something out of his jacket, he said, "Almost forgot. Mrs Hughes asked me to give this to you. The letter had arrived at the Abbey this morning. It's for you."

Charles took the letter, wondering who could have sent it. He had left the Abbey quite some time ago and the regular people in his life would use his home adress now to contact him. Starring at the piece of paper in his hand, he didn't watch Albert leaving. He turned back into the house and pulled the apron off. Doing so, he realised that Albert had seen him this way and he shook his head. He had expected to see his wife at the door, so he hadn't bothered to take it off ... a bit awkward. But what was not awkward about being a man alone in the house, chopping vegetables while his wife was working full time?

He took the letter to his desk and opened it. Carrots and onions forgotten in the kitchen.  
After only a few words his eyes opened wide and he gasped for air, "Oh no, not him again!"


	2. Chapter 2 : the persuasion

Old tales to tell, new feelings to live

Chapter 2 : The Persuasion

When Elsie Carson walked the path to their cottage after work she felt very tired. Preparations for the dinner party on Friday had already started. Many important guests would arrive for the dinner next weekend. Many things to plan, special requests to remember. One housemaid was sick and one of the hallboys had burnt his hand. Luckily not Albert. He was supposed to help serve at the table since Mr Molesley was not available.

Almost home, Elsie saw that there was very little light shining from the cottage. Highly unusual, since Charles always had a bright light on for her. And since they were planing to have dinner together, there was supposed to be at least a light from the kitchen. But nothing was to be seen.

She walked faster, fearing what the reason was for the difference tonight. Opening the door she called his name immediately. Not caring about her coat or hat, she made her way into their sittingroom. And there he was. Sitting next to the fire, only the flames illuminating the room.

"Are you alright?" she asked, a little afraid of the answer.

He looked up at her, "Sure I am. Why shouldn't I be?"

Only then did he notice that he was sitting in the dark, away with the fairies, and had been, for quite some time. He got up from his chair to welcome his wife back home.

While helping her out of her coat, he touched her neck slightly, feeling the little shiver that ran upon her skin when Elsie turned to him and said, "You scared me a bit. No lights on, so I thought something might have happened."

His answer was a soft kiss on her cheek. "I am fine," he said "Everything is fine." He took her coat and put it away. "I am that fine, that I am proud to tell that I prepared everything for your cooking already. All vegetables are chopped, a chicken broth cooked, we only need your secret ingredients to finish our tasty soup."

"Actually they are Mrs Patmore's secret ingredients, but I am proud to say that I am quite thorough with them now." Elsie smiled at him, earning Charles' smile in return. "But I am very happy and even more relieved to find you in a good mood," she added taking her hat off and putting it on the side table.

Charles inhaled sharply, then looked at her. Looking away again he asked, "Care for a glass of wine?"

Elsie was surprised. "Before dinner?" she inquired curiously.

"Sorry, only thought you'd like to join me," he said and right then Elsie noticed the empty glass on the table by the fire.

"Only if you're telling me what happened."

Charles opened the kitchen cupboard and took a glass out of it before he passed Elsie on his way back into his chair. Sitting down he exhaled, "He is coming back to Downton. Next weekend. Hoping for a lovely chat with an old chap - remembering the good old times."

Elsie had no idea what he was talking about until she remembered the letter that had arrived in the morning. She took a seat opposite to him, just like they had always done at the Abbey.

Pouring the wine into her glass he continued, "Charles Grigg is coming back to England." He looked at her and for a moment both were silent.

"I thought..." she started, but was interrupted.

"Yes. Me, too. I thought that he was gone for good too. With all his memories and stories to tell. Leaving me alone, finally. But he is not!" Charles said and took a large sip.

"What else is he saying? Must be something important in that letter that is upsetting you that much," Elsie commented.

"His possible, announced, upcoming presence alone upsets me," Charles said, his voice sharp. "Do I have to remind you of all the things he'd done. How happy I was when he finally vanished out of my life."

Elsie lowered her head and looked up at him, "I remember you two shaking hands, parting as friends."

Charles leant back into his chair, "I did it because I thought he'd be gone for good. That's all. And now he wants to stay here with us!"

"He wants what?" Elsie looked up at him, startled.

"Don't worry. Only for a night. He is going back to London. To stay with his sister who lives close to London. And on his way there he wants to make a short stop here and stay with us. Sharing memories of good old times he likes to remember so well," Charles' voice rose. "A time I wish to forget."

Elsie had a sip from her glass, "Well, it doesn't sound like a bad idea to me at all - the timing is perfect." she stated shyly.

Charles couldn't believe what she was saying. He was lost for words. "Don't do that, Elsie," he muttered shaking his head.

"Don't do what, Charlie?" she locked eyes with him, a smile on her face.

Charles got up, "I know exactly what you are going to do. You are trying to talk me into it. Giving him a bed here for the night. Telling me that having a good chat and company while you are working wouldn't be that bad."

Elsie's smile was now a smirk, " I'm happy you got my point so easily."

"No way! No way!" he turned away.

"Charlie!" Elsie put down her glass, got up and reached for her husband's arm. Leaning against his back she whispered to his side, "Her Ladyship told me that she would need my full attention next weekend. Maybe, I might have to stay at the Abbey over night." She felt Charles stir. "I would be more than glad to know that you are with company when I am away working. I know it's not the perfect choice you'd wish for...but since he's asking..."

Charles turned to face his wife and Elsie continued, "Tell him that you don't want to talk about the old days. Ask him about Ireland, how his sister in London is doing. There are so many things you can talk about, Charles." She took his hands in hers. "It means a lot to me that you don't feel alone when we can't be together."

Charles looked down at her and said, "You just sound like Lady Mary to me there."

His words filled the silent room with atmosphere. Elsie was shocked and her face showed it all over. "What? Lady Mary?"

A warm smile appeared on Charles' face. He took her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Such a bright mind and a persuading voice. The both of you. How could I deny a woman anything when she's talking like this?" He kissed her hands again and then lowered them. "Although I have to admit that your soft touch, the smell of your hair," he almost whispered placing another kiss near her ear. "And your enchanting lips - where all these loving words are coming from - are much far more seducing... much more intensifying than those of the blessed Lady Mary."

With his last words Elsie was sure about where his teasing was headed and what his intentions were. However she didn't want to give in easily. But before she could reply he finished his speech with a lingering kiss, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tight.

And Elsie wasn't thinking of Lady Mary anymore. Nor was Charlie of Charles Grigg.


	3. Chapter 3 : the arrival

Chapter 3 : The Arrival

The weekend had come and Elsie Hughes Carson was feeling a bit nervous. Another maid was sick, the first guests were to arrive in a few hours and at home was a grumpy husband who was complaining about the upcoming visit of Charles Grigg.

The event at the Abbey didn't cause her too much dread. More was the fear of finding two dead bodies in her home upon her return on Sunday morning. There was a constant image in her mind of the two men at each other's throats while she was overlooking the changing of linen and towels. Why did she talk Charles into this? What if he was right and there was nothing left between the two old men,nothing but anger and fury?

It was very early in the morning and Charles was still asleep. Elsie was used to getting dressed as quietly as possible. Only today she felt the need to turn to her husband before she left the room. Her eyes were full of love when she touched his hair softly and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. She only wished the best for him and not feeling lonely and abandoned was one of it. But she wasn't so sure anymore whether Charles Grigg was the right person for it instead of her.

Elsie took the bag she had packed the night before and left. Both had agreed that it would be best for her to stay the night at the house. It would give her the chance to get at least a few hours of sleep and the assurance that she would be close at hand if something happened. Lady Grantham had pointed out more than once that this dinner was very important to her and Elsie put it on her age that she felt more pressure upon her than the years before. But she knew that once she had set a foot in the Abbey her experience would take over and the routine of a lifetime would lead to success.

But she wasn't so sure about the success of what was happening at her house that weekend.

Charles Carson left for the station after a quick breakfast. He wasn't really hungry at all, but he didn't want to allow Charles Grigg to disturb his daily routine before he'd even arrived. The train was on time and Charles pretended to be as relaxed as possible. He felt confident of keeping control of his feelings. All of it changed when he saw Charles Grigg getting out of the train compartment.

Slowly, the two men walked towards each other. Once closer, Charles tipped hat to greet his old pal, but barely. He had decided against a handshake - he wasn't ready for that now.

Grigg was the first to speak. Not really an unexpected or unusual behavior for him, "Charlie Carson! The last time we parted I wished you well and thought I'd never see you again. And here we are!"

Charles nodded. "Yes, Charles. I have to admit your letter was an immense surprise to me. Not to mention your request," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Grigg placed his small bag on the ground and punched his hands into his own body, "Look at this old man, Charlie. Years ago he travelled across the country by day and seduced a woman by night." His laughter, loud. Too loud. "Nothing of that is still possible. So I came up with the idea to stop here for the night and get to Hetta well rested for a nice Sunday dinner."

Charles shook his head, "Whatever that may have changed during the years Charles, your way and ideas of getting smooth through life has certainly not." He grabbed the bag and showed Grigg the way to the station's exit, "Let's go. We'll take the bus and then it's a small hike to the cottage."

Grigg followed Charles, a huge smile on his face, "Can't tell how surprised I was to hear about you and Mrs Hughes. And to be honest I can't wait to meet her again and hear the details about the two of you."

Charles felt his anger rise.

"She's quiet a catch for you, Charlie. Looking at your success in the past," Charlie sniggered.

Charles stopped and dropped the bag. It hit the ground with a hard thump. He gave Grigg a stern look, "Mrs Hughes... Elsie. My wife, is none of your business. Not the why, not the when and not the how." He turned, not bothering to pick the case up again. "She won't even be at home during your stay. There's an important event at the Abbey she needs to take care of and will stay there overnight." Again he stoped and turned, "And I am sure you will be already on your way to London when she returns home."

Grigg picked his case up. That smile which bordered a smirk still on his face, "Wonderful! That means it's just the two of us at your cottage. Time and space for an inspiring chat about the good old times of two old friends. And you know there's a lot to remember, Charlie," he said with a smirk and a wink of his eye.

Charles' body stiffened and he clenched his fists as he continued walking. His lips small on a grumpy face. He lead the way as he muttered beneath his breath, "Not out of the station yet and he has to start it already!"


	4. Chapter 4 : the whiskey

Chapter 4 : The Whiskey

"Well, well, well. Look at this! Charlie Carson has finally found a place to call home," Grigg exclaimed as they entered the cottage. His bag still in his hand, he stopped at the framed picture of Charles and Elsie at their wedding. "And what a catch to share it with!"

Charles did his best to ignore him and took his coat and hat off.

"Cup of tea for you?" he asked and walked straight into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

Not answering his question Grigg diverted into their living room and took a look around. Charles, who was still in the kitchen waiting for his answer, got curious where he'd been up to. He found Grigg standing in the middle of the room, close to the fire.

When Grigg turned around to him Charles could see a sad look in his eyes. "You made it Charlie," he said in a low and serious voice. "You made it. You are finally home."

"Of course I am home," Charles replied, failing to understanding what Grigg really meant.

Grigg came closer to him, "I mean you are really home, Charlie. Settled down. Out of the rush and trouble. A wife by your side. Someone who loves you."

Charles was still not used to the new sentimental side of his old partner and was almost suspicious as to what Grigg's real intention was.

"When I look at this picture of you and your wife I can see how much love there is between the two of you. The way you look at each other," Grigg said. Charles couldn't say a word, but kept looking on at Grigg. "I see something there I've never... never ever experienced when I was married to Alice."

There it was. Alice. Charles had to swallow the lump in his throat. Still unable to say anything.

"It took me years to understand," Grigg continued. "That she never looked at me that way, because she never loved me that way."

The atmosphere in the room was almost too much for Charles, but he had sworn to himself not to fall for Grigg's old memories and most of all not to talk about Alice.

"You are a very lucky man, Charles. Loved by not only one woman, but by two."

That was enough. Charles couldn't stand this sentimental blabbing any longer. He pulled himself together, stood tall with a stern look above Grigg. "How about that tea?" he asked with an emotionless look on his face.

But Grigg wasn't impressed by Charles' behavior at all. He knew his old pal too well. If Charles Carson would have been able to show his true emotions, he would had been married decades ago. So he gave him only a little smile in return. "You go and get your damned tea," he said and turned to his bag. "I got something better." Beneath Charles' look of surprise Grigg pulled out a bottle of Irish whiskey out of his bag.

"Would be very kind of you if you could get me a class when you get to the kitchen," Grigg smirked.

Without a word Charles left. Standing in front of the kettle and the cupboard his thoughts drifted away. "Lucky man... settled... loved by two women..."

He pulled the kettle from the oven and grabbed two glasses.

Returning to the sitting room Charles discovered the whiskey bottle on the side table near the fire. Grigg was standing at the window looking outside. Not turning around but sensing his old friend's presence he started talking again, "Although I know that you always saw me as a cold hearted, drunken fool that stole your future wife, I have to tell you that I wasn't that." He heard the sound of the cork as he finished.

"You already told me that," Charles answered while pouring whiskey into the glasses.

Grigg turned around, "I mean the cold hearted part. Not talking about the stealing and the drinking - you are well aware of the facts by now," he said taking the glass. "I've never been cold hearted, Charlie. The only thing I was really good at was keeping my emotions secret. The fears deep inside me. Swallowing them down with whiskey and beer."

"I am sorry to tell, but I cannot recall you being insecure at any point of our way," Charles deadpanned while sitting down and took a sip of the whiskey. The taste was strong and he breathed sharply through his teeth.

Grigg smiled at that and sat down across him. He raised his glass for a toast. "Told you I was good at it," he said and smiled.

Both men leant back in their chairs and it seemed that the tension had disappeared somehow and they started to relax.

"Alone, Charles. Alone is the magic word in my life. The word I've always been afraid of."

Charles was surprised. "Once again I have to say that this is one thing I can't remember... you have always been around the boys, with the girls, in bars and cheap hotels," Charles threw at him.

Grigg just looked at him with his index finger pointed to his chest. "I mean deep inside here, Charlie. Inside. I am well aware that I filled my life with countless people - coming and going all the time. But I was always so eager, deep inside here, to find someone that would stay. Stay with me. Appreciate me. Here!" he pointed at his heart and leant back again. "You know that my dad left us early. He'd never been much of a family man. When I got older my mum always told that I'd be my old man's son. And she started to hate me like she hated him... and so I left. Went away. And we met Charlie. It was so easy to be the funny and careless guy with you as my opposite. And I started to like it. Being ordinary. Quantity instead of quality. The less they knew the less they expected of me. And I didn't care. Didn't care that they were interested and gone when they had it. Why do you think I felt so flattered when Alice turned to me instead of you. When she seemed to see something special in me. After all the time the two of you had spent together.'

Charles gave him a stern look, "I stopped thinking about the two of you long ago."

"Liar!" Grigg shouted, rose and emptied his glass in one breath. With the empty glass in his hand he pointed at Charles and locked eyes with him. "I know you shook my hand and wished me well at the station all those years ago, Charlie. But why? Because you forgave me? Did you really?"

They stared at each other silently.

'No," was Charles' emotionless answer.

Grigg nodded with a smile, "I knew it. I knew the moment I saw the way you looked at her."

Charles emptied his glass,too, "Let's stop this Charles. It's getting ridiculous." He stood up.

"I knew it when I saw you from my seat by the window. The way you looked at her. Just a small turn of your head, a quick look before you passed her." Grigg came closer to Charles. "You did it for her, Charlie. To show her that it was over. And that you'd be ready to start something new. That was the only reason. There was nothing about me."

"Nonsense," Charles shouted and turned away.

Grigg came up to him once more and stood close behind him, "Tell me Charlie, when did you finally have the guts to tell her what was really happening deep inside you?"

Charles turned around and his face was red with anger. How could this man had read him so well with a single look through a window on a moving train?

"When did you finally tell Mrs Hughes that you felt lonely inside and that the only cure for it was to love her?"


	5. Chapter 5 : the unwanted

Chapter 5: The Unwanted

Later at night.

Charles' hands were on Grigg's throat, putting as much pressure into his grip that his size allowed. Grigg's face was already red and he gasped for air. His hands on top of Charles' as he tried to get them off him. Getting more and more scared he felt his strength to defeat Charles fading.

Right in that moment he saw the small bowl of baking soda in front of him and reached for it.

"Careful! You need to hold it tight, otherwise you'll have to search for something else to get rid of the stain," a voice drifted in from the distance. Elsie Hughes Carson came back to reality the moment the bowl slipped out of her hands. Fortunately Daisy was standing next to her and caught it before it hit the ground.

"Goodness! That was close!" she exclaimed. "Quite far away with the fairies, Mrs Hughes, aren't we?"

Elsie took a deep breath and got up to take the bowl from Daisy. "You have no idea Daisy," she sighed and left for the kitchen.

Placing the bowl on the table Elsie welcomed the cup of tea Mrs Patmore was holding out to her.

"Knowing you I'd say you are far more home at your cottage than in the Green Room working on that red wine stain," the cook said compassionately.

Elsie nodded. She had told her friend about the visit and about her concerns, that had grown bigger and bigger during the day. Even into the early evening.

"Can't get that picture out of my mind. I always see them at each other's throats," Elsie admitted.

"Well, wouldn't be such a big surprise if they'd really be," Beryl Patmore answered boldly.

"Thank you. Very helpful," Elsie scowled. She took a sip of tea and put the cup down. "I need to take care of that stain before Mr Cunningham returns to his room after dinner."

Mrs Patmore put her cloth on the table next to Elsie's cup, a hand on her hip, "Why don't you let one of the maids do that and you take the small amount of time between dinner, coffee and cigars to check on your men?"

"I can't leave the house, Mrs Patmore! What if something comes up and Mr Barrow is not able to find me," Elsie replied astonished, almost upset.

Beryl Patmore only waved her hands and concentrated on her dessert again, "Of course you can. Everyone is busy eating up there. And if something happens there's Anna and Miss Baxter to take care of it. I am sure they can handle it well." She looked at her friend carefully, "Did you ever have the idea that it will come to a point when Mrs Hughes becomes Mrs Carson for good and Downton will still stand? With everyone in it still able to survive."

Elsie felt touched by Beryl's words although she didn't know how to put her feelings into words.

"You know we need you here desperately but allow us to be sure that we can do without you for an hour or so," Beryl smiled and Elsie could do nothing but join her.

In the next second she turned to her sitting room and grabbed her coat and hat. Turning to Mrs Patmore she said, "You give me a call at the cottage if anything gets serious Mrs Patmore. You promise me that!"

"By the life of my cat!" Beryl raised her hands to a vow.

Elsie turned to her in surprise, "You don't have a cat!"

"Oh… forgot that!"

When Elsie reached her home she decided to be quiet when entering it, so the men wouldn't be shocked by her sudden and unexpected appearance. To be honest, she intended to sneak into it to check carefully how the men were doing, all by themselves. She opened the door quietly and was surprised - but happy - to hear laughter.

"Thank the Lord!" she thought to herself.

Entering the hall she noticed the light in the kitchen and had a closer look. Plates, wine glasses and the rest of dinner still on the table. The room itself was deserted. More laughter came from the living room. Standing close to the doorframe, she hid from the men's view and listened to them without being seen.

"Short girls, short pants... giving ya a sudden chance," she heard Grigg saying followed by laughter.

"Not really Charles' kind of conversation," she thought and took a sharp intake of breath through her teeth, part of her fearing Charles' response.

"Long girls, long pants... and the night will never end!" To her shock she recognized Charles' voice followed by the clicking of glasses and loud, raucous laughter. She had never heard her husband talking like that. Not as a butler, not as a man, and certainly not as her husband. Even in more intimate situations he'd always been a true gentleman. But hearing him talking like a real northern chap made her smile and she had to press her hand to her lips to remain silent.

Her smile disappeared when she heard Grigg's voice again.

"And I remember Alice's style well. And so do you, don't you Charlie?"

Elsie's breathing stopped. What would be her husband's answer to that? Would he even answer at all?

"Oh yes, Charlie. Long, long pants... down to her knees!"

And she heard him laugh, she heard Grigg laugh, the glasses clink and the sound of a cork.  
Elsie had to leave her spot in the corner. She had to get out. She had to breath. She had to spit out the words forming in her mouth.

"And what about your current abilities Mr Carson?"

Grigg's question were the last words she heard. She knew she wouldn't want to hear an answer and that she'd have to leave immediately. And so she did. Closing the door behind her quietly, she leant against the cold wall outside and started breathing again. Her mind was running wild. So many thoughts at the same time.  
Was that really her man inside the cottage? He looked like her beloved husband, but he behaved like a stranger. Drinking whiskey, leaving a dirty dinner table alone, the vulgar words he was saying. That wasn't her Charles at all. Rather hilarious at first but it wasn't him at all at the end. He had never been with her that way... never ever.

And what did he mean by this answer? Long pants? How does he know about Alice's undergarments at all? What did he really mean when he had said he could almost taste it when they talked about her first all those years ago, when he told her about how much he wanted to marry Alice then? Elsie felt anger rising up deep inside her. When he had told her about Alice it had seemed to be one of those innocent love affairs without a happy ending. But what was it really like? When he knew about the length of her knickers! He had said he didn't dare to court her. Pretended that he was the poor abandoned one... and she fell for it. How stupid she'd been!

By then Elsie was breathing hard. She had to move. She had to walk. So she tightened her coat around her and started to walk away from the cottage.

"And I spent money on that damned frame to keep his memories alive!" she muttered loudly and angrily when she was sure she wouldn't be heard anymore.

Thirty minutes later Elsie Hughes Carson was kneeling on the carpet of the Green Room working hard on a red wine stain. A flabbergasted maid watching her.

And by God, she needed that to extinguish the Scottish fire burning strongly inside her.


	6. A warm and huge THANK YOU to you all

Dear readers,

I would like to use this way to thank you all for your nice reviews and your patience for a new writer on this platform.  
Due to my job situation it is difficult for me to answer all the reviews - although I'd love to do so.

So here and for you all : THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH !

Your reviews encourage me to continue.  
Your words create new ideas for the story.

I really hope you will like the direction the story will take. Because it's not only Charles fighting old ghosts in person of Charles Grigg ... we mustn't forget Elsie Hughes. Well trained to be a stern housekeeper she had to learn to become a woman and wife very late. Is she sure and aware of being this already ?  
I promise that all questions that might come up in the next chapters will be answered before the story finishes. Because my personal opinion is that talking is the way to a happy relationship. Tell someone who you are and he will see you. In body and soul.  
So give it some time ... they will have a chance to talk. ;-)

Thank you once again

foolsanddreamer


	7. Chapter 6 : the reunion

Chapter 6: The Reunion

Elsie closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she turned the doorknob and entered the cottage on Sunday afternoon. All the guests had left and Mr Barrow had agreed that she could leave as early as possible. He had also kindly offered her a half day off for the next morning and she had agreed, even though she was not sure if she'd really liked it or not. A shiver ran down her spine when she saw the glow of the fire coming from the living room and the heat comforted her. She went straight to the kitchen and placed her basket on the table. Taking her gloves off, she looked around. The whole room looked tidy - the dishes washed up and the table clean. In that moment she heard his footsteps on the stairs and only a few seconds later, Charles was standing in front of her.  
"Thank the Lord, it's you! A part of me was still worried it would be him again!" he breathed a sigh of relief.  
Charles' scared expression was priceless and Elsie tried to reward him with a little smile, a smile which was so difficult to put on. All day long she had thought about what she had heard the night before. About Alice and her... well… her knickers. Remembering this her smile disappeared again and so she tried to talk to him to cover up. "I thought he was supposed to take the early train. And it's late in the afternoon now - he should be in London already," she stated while taking off her coat. Watching her, Charles came closer and helped her out of it. But this time Elsie made sure that he wouldn't touch her while doing so by stepping away quickly. Charles was a bit irritated. He had hoped to greet his wife with a kiss and a warm embrace. But watching her sadly stepping away, he could do nothing but to continue talking, "I took him to the station, saw him getting on the train. And I saw the train departing. I even waited 20 minutes on the platform to see whether the train would return by any chance." Amused by his own words, Charles had a bright smile on his face. "It didn't. It's over, it's done. And you are right. He should be in London by now." After putting the coat away he came up to Elsie again and took her hands into his before she could escape again, "We are back to normal. How about some tea, love? The kettle is on and the water should be hot."  
Elsie pulled her hands away from his. Somehow she felt uncomfortable being touched by him. Did he just say 'back to normal'? For her, so many things had changed. She hadn't slept a wink last night, for her thoughts always wandered back to the question ofhow close Charles - her husband - really was to Alice. Every question only lead to another one. Did he lie to her when he told her they were not even courting? And if he did, why didn't she realize? What else was a lie? Maybe his affection for her? She would never be comparable to a beautiful showgirl. So why was he really interested in her? When he had laid eyes on Alice, what did he really think of her, Elsie Hughes? Alice, young. She, old. Alice could have had her choice of any man. She was a spinster, a leftover. Elsie shook her head and tried hard to stop her thoughts. She concentrated on her hat and took the hat pin out of her hair.  
"Tea is a very good idea," she said, walked away from him again and put her hat on the side table. "But I'd like to wash up a bit before it. And get out of these shoes."  
Elsie passed him, then stopped at the stairs. Slowly she turned her head, but didn't dare to look at him. It was so unfair to him, but the only way of keeping control over her thoughts was to not be close to him.  
"If you don't mind, I'd like to lay down for an hour. I feel quite tired after all."  
Elsie hoped that when she'd recovered from two days of hard work she'd be more of herself and more reasonable. And that she could look at him with a distance she needed desperately at this point.  
Charles was more than surprised by his wife's behaviour and had no idea what had caused it. He hadn't been able to ask her about the dinner party at all. Nor had he had the chance to tell her about Charles Grigg. But of course he understood that she was exhausted and he respected her wish for a rest.

"Of course, Love. Do as you like. I will bring you the tea."  
"Thank you."  
Elsie walked upstairs. At the top she stopped once more. The door to their guestroom was open. The room seemed untouched, the bed made. As if no onehad ever used it. And again, Elsie's thoughts drifted away into a direction she couldn't control. An urgent need almost pressed the question out of her mouth.  
"Have you been out last night, you and Mr Grigg?" she asked but regretted the words instantly.  
Charles came to the bottom of the stairs and held onto the railing. He looked up, trying to catch his wife's eyes.  
"Of course not. Where did that question come from?" he asked astonished.  
Elsie still didn't look at him. She focused on the bed and the sharp corners of the linen. It almost made her smile. Sharp corners - Charles liked them.  
"The bed is made. It looks as if no one had ever used it last night."  
"Because I made it!" was Charles' direct and almost defensive answer. "We had a few drinks last night and went to bed late."  
Elsie closed her eyes while listening. She knew all too well what happened last night.  
"After Grigg left this morning I cleaned up the kitchen and the living room. And then I did the bedrooms." After a while he added, "You will see that our bedroom is made as well."  
Only nodding but not turning around, Elsie felt the need to apologize, "Of course, Charles. I am sorry.I'm really tired. Forgive me."  
And then she left. Charles was still standing at the bottom of the stairs when he heard their bedroom door open and close. Returning to the kitchen he hoped that Elsie would be more herself after a nap and he prepared some tea for her A few minutes later he entered their bedroom with a tray in his hands. On it a cup of tea and some biscuits.  
His wife was lying on her side, facing the window. Her eyes closed. She was wearing her bathrobe. Her dress and shoes placed carefully at her dressing table. Charles placed the tray on the bedside table carefully, so as not to wake her. She looked exhausted. Her face a bit pale, but still so beautiful. How much he wanted to hold her, to kiss her. But something was wrong. And it tormented him that he had no idea what it was. He only wished that time and a good rest would give him the chance to finally talk to her. Charles picked up Elsie's dress and put it on ahanger. Then he took her shoes. Seeing that they needed polishing, he left the room.  
Only when she heard the soft closing of the door Elsie opened her eyes. She bit her lower lip and allowed her tears to flow.


	8. Chapter 7 : the insecurities

Chapter 7 : the insecurities

In the end it took Elsie Hughes Carson almost two hours to come back into their living room. Although it was already evening she was fully dressed in a casual daytime outfit; a long skirt and a high-necked blouse with long sleeves. And it seemed that she almost tried to hide behind the fabric. In her hands was the tray with the cup and the untouched plate of biscuits on it. When Charles registered her presence, he got up from his chair near the fire and put his newspaper aside.

"I hope you were able to get some rest," he said with a soft voice and tried to give her a little smile.

He didn't want to show her directly that he was concerned about her earlier behaviour. But in reality he was. And he wanted to set it right, whatever it was. When Elsie got closer to him he realised that she must have cried. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face was still pale. He followed her into the kitchen, suddenly unable to hold back any longer he said "Elsie, please! Something is wrong. I can see that you have cried. Tell me what it is. Did something occur at the Abbey?"

Elsie placed the tray near the basin, "It's funny, Charles. Whenever you sense that something is wrong about me it has to do with the Abbey."

She finished on an unimpressed note and started to wash the cup.

"What else could it be?" he asked irritated. "You haven't been here for at least two days. You didn't tell me a single word about your dinner party and I couldn't tell you anything about Grigg. And all of this because you haven't spoken five sentences since you got back to the house."

Elsie remained silent and concentrated on the cup.  
Charles felt his anger rising. There was no way he could be the reason for her behaviour. They hadn't seen other for 36 hours and he had cleaned up all the mess Grigg had left behind and he even had prepared a dinner table which his wife didn't seem to have noticed at all. He wished she would just spit it out. Spit out at him, whatever it was and what was wrong so they could clear this atmosphere that had appeared between them. Although it wasn't his intension his voice became loud and aggressive.

"Would you please stop sulking and finally talk to me!" he shouted out.

Elsie turned around at the booming of his voice. Her expression stiff and her eyes empty and she seemed to be far away on a train of thoughts when she started to talk.

"Lady Grantham was very happy about the evening. She sent her compliments downstairs. Mrs Patmore's food was outstanding and the service perfect. Even Mr Barrow's choice of day of Downton's glory."

Even without looking at her husband she knew that she had delivered what he had expected to hear.  
But Charles still looked a bit suspicious.

"You didn't mention your part in it," he commented carefully.

Elsie turned around again, opened the cupboard and placed the cup and saucer inside.

"There is nothing to mention, Charles. The key, was a good plan. The tool to know how to delegate."

Closing the cupboard and facing him again,she folded her hands in front of her and Charles looked into the stern face of the housekeeper of Downton Abbey. Obviously a mask she was hiding behind.

"Something I can do with perfection and dedication. All day long. In the middle of the night. Without sleep or food. Until the work is done."

Charles raised his eyebrow and this time he tried to keep his voice as calm as possible.  
„I never had a single doubt about that."

Elsie bit her lips and a small smile was pressed through them.  
"Of course not, Charles. We did it together for years. Serving to perfection for the family and the glorious house. Well, at least you said so."  
She locked eyes with him.  
"Did you mean it, Charles?"

Charles' patience was vanishing once more and his voice rose  
"Of course I did! You are talking in riddles, Elsie Carson. Could you please stop it and tell me what's causing all of this."

She didn't reply.

Breathing in deeply, Charles gave it another smoother chance.  
"You left with a kiss. And you came back with…with..." his hands traced circles in the air. "With all these question marks above your head."

Elsie pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Putting her head in her hands she looked at him and a smile appeared on her face.  
"I forgot that you can read me so well, Charlie."

"She said Charlie," he thought. "That's my Elsie back again."  
He came closer to her and stood beside her. His hand stroked her hair and after a while she leant her head against his side.

"I made us a cold plate and fetched fresh bread from the village. Why don't you sit by the fire and I get us some Margaux with it. And then we'll talk," Charles offered.

Two hours and a bottle of Margaux later Elsie was still chatting away about her days at the Abbey. The words came out of her fast, her Scottish brogue strong and she seemed to be a bit tipsy. While talking her hands tried to draw pictures in the air and Charles was amused by the image in front of him. He wished so much that everything would be alright again and that he could hold her in his arms tonight and that she may even allow him to make love to her. Since she had told him about her half day off the next morning, he wasn't able to think of anything else. His wife looked so pretty with the red cheeks that the wine had created and her smile was like that of a little child talking about an adventure. So focused on Elsie and his fantasies about the upcoming night, Charles completely forgot that she hadn't asked one single question about his evening with Grigg. He didn't recognize the mask Elsie had put on to hide her insecurities behind. If it wasn't for her husband's words she'd have stayed there for the rest of time. But her husband smiled at her brightly.

"It really seems you had a far more pleasant time at the Abbey than I had here with Grigg."

There it was again, that sharp clenching in her stomach that almost made her sick. Why did he say that it wasn't a pleasant time with Grigg when she still heard their laughter in her mind? Why was he lying to her? Why was he trying to keep her away from his memories of Alice? Was it because it was much more than he had admitted years ago? Was it because he didn't want to say that she was just a substitute for Alice, who let him go for a fool like Grigg. A solution for not being alone, now that he was old and sick? And in return for taking care of him, he would reach out for her once in a while to make her feel precious and loved?  
Elsie's train of thoughts was racing again. So many pictures and fears in her mind at the same time. She couldn't stand it any longer. She got up quickly from her chair, far too quickly and the world around her began to fade. Suddenly she felt sick and she had to put her hand on her mouth. She had never felt that way. What was wrong with her? Why did she behave like that and what would he think of her now? How could he ever love a madwoman like the one right in front of him?  
Charles had got up the moment he saw Elsie waver, almost falling over into his arms. He grabbed her by her upper arms and steadied her. Carefully he pulled her closer so that her head rested on his chest.

Still a hand on her mouth and feeling sick and silly Elsie tried to speak, "I am so sorry, Charles." Tears appeared in her eyes.  
Tears Charles couldn't see from his point of view and so he still had a soft smile on his face.  
"Don't you worry my dear. I feel so relieved to return the honour of steadying you once in a while when it's normally always you who takes care of me."

Elsie closed her eyes.

"Am I doing that, Charles? Taking care of you?" she asked.  
"Of course you do, you always did. And I feel so happy that you do."  
Elsie pushed herself away from Charles and he finally was able to see the tears and the sad look on her face.  
"Is this why you love me, Charles? Because I take care of you? Look after your well-being?"

Charles didn't know what had happened, why all these questions came up again after a wonderful evening by the fire with wine and laughter. Maybe because of that, the wine, and her days full of work. She hadn't touched the food at all. Wine and exhaustion would cause this behaviour. The best would be to call it a night and retire to bed. She seemed to need that sleep right now and he would be patient and understanding for her good.

"Maybe we should go to bed, Elsie. It had been quite a long day," he tried to touch her cheek softly.

The next words Charles heard came through a thick fog and from far away. And at the end he had to think all night long whether he had heard them right.  
"Of course we can go, Charles. We can lie down and you can have me to prove how grateful you are for all the things I do for you. Why else would love me… if… if you could have had so much better."


	9. Chapter 8 : the truth in me

Old tales to tell - new feelings to live

Chapter 8: the truth in me

Silence ruled the atmosphere in Charles' and Elsie's bedroom. Not even a snoring could be heard since Charles hadn't been able to find rest at all - Elsie's words were too loud as they wandered through his mind.

Their backs turned to each other, none of them could see that they were both not asleep. But they already knew each other so well that it was obvious that both of them only pretended to be asleep to avoid talking. Elsie made the first move when she got annoyed about the wet fabric of the pillow beneath her. She hadn't dared to move in the last few hours and therefore all her tears had found their way into the same spot and made the pillowcase uncomfortable to rest on. She pulled her bedcover away, swung her legs out of the bed, while pressing her hand on the mattress to steady herself. She slipped on her slippers near the bed and got up. Her side of the bed was close to the window, so it only took her three steps to reach it and to take a look outside. It was in the middle of the night and still dark. She saw the wind playing in the tops of trees and from far away the quiet sound of the milk coach was noticeable. Her mind seemed to be empty. Finally. Emptied a bit more with every tear she had cried that night. Her body was still, almost not there for her to feel.

What had she done? She had behaved like a madwoman speaking to her husband in the manner that she did and then rushing away to hide in their bedroom. She had to grin at that thought. Their bedroom - what a place to hide? A room she knew he could follow her to and she knew he would enter next when getting to bed. Charles Carson was too proud and too big to sleep on the small settee in their living room to avoid her. Maybe she was relying on that. That he would follow her. Maybe she was hoping that he would do or say something that would bring back the strong and reasonable Elsie she always was. She had prepared herself quickly to be in bed, covered with the sheets so that she could hide when he would finally come. But when he did...

Lying on her side she had only heard his steps and the rustling of his clothes. She had felt the dip of the mattress when he'd climbed into it. And then there it was… silence. Not a single word spoken. Neither a turn nor a touch in her direction. Just silence. How much she had wished that he would have grabbed her and that shaken all that silliness out of her. That he'd hold her and love her.  
Elsie almost had the need to cry out loud. All day long she had avoided the very thought of him, not to mention the thought of him touching her. And now she felt in need. Wanted him so badly. She wanted so badly for him to see her. To see her fears and insecurities. She wanted him to tell her that he'd help her through this. Make her forget about Alice. Alice and her damned knickers.  
Elsie pressed a hand against her mouth and tried to calm down again. All these thoughts were painful, but it was no reason for swearing, even if it was in her mind. And no matter how insecure and irrational her feelings were, her hearing was still fine. She had heard it. She had heard them talking about Alice. Beautiful, sweet Alice. So beautiful that he fell for her, wanted to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her.

And once again she saw the differences between them. The showgirl and the housemaid. Seductively singing Alice and hard working Elsie. Smooth skinned Alice in beautiful dresses and sweaty, dirty Elsie in a stained apron.  
Elsie Hughes had been raised to become a logical thinking, hard working woman and her reasonable behaviour had got her the job as a reliable and much honoured housekeeper in one of the biggest houses in the county. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find one single thing she might have had in common with Alice Neal. Not one single explanation for why Charles Carson could have fallen into love with two so very different women.

"You always took care me Elsie. And I was happy about it"

She heard his voice again and felt her heart aching. Charles Carson was not good with words. Of course, he could quote all the wonderful sayings famous writers had created. But with his own words he'd never been good at compliments. Elsie always 'had to know' that he thought her beautiful, that he loved her. Saying so? Not his cup of tea. When he touches her, he is quiet. And their lovemaking is an act of proving and cherishing their closeness as partners to each other... still... after all these years. She was a bit shocked when she once found herself curiously waiting for his reactions after they'd finished their lovemaking. Was there a sound? A sign if he liked it or not? Did he seem satisfied or just relieved that it was over? Most of the time he just turned over, escaped to the bathroom quickly and went to sleep upon his return. Before he did, he left a kiss on her forehead and sometimes it seemed as if he wanted to say something. She could feel that from the warm beneath in her skin. But if he did, it was a 'sleep well, love.  
She was so unsure deep inside, but she knew it wasn't for her to talk about it. Not with him, not with anyone. Not even Mrs Patmore. Especially not Mrs Patmore! To her their love-nest was carefree with many things hidden behind the binding word of 'intimacy.' It was something that was meant to be kept between the two of them. Funny to think that they were capable of managing so many things. Alone and together, for hundreds of people that had passed through their lives. But they were not able to speak about their love when they were alone. And surely she wasn't pretty Alice, playing with a string of hair and whispering in a sing-song voice "Tell me what I can do for you, Charlie." He had told her how he'd like his sandwiches, but she didn't know where he'd liked to be touched or caressed when they were together.  
Elsie tried hard to get rid of these thoughts. Of course she knew that he loved her. But if she was honest with herself - and in this night, standing at the window and watching the wind playing in the trees, she absolutely was - she didn't know why he did.

Elsie quickly wiped away a tear that was running down her face when she heard her husband rustle in the bed. When she turned towards him she saw him sitting upright, leaning against the headboard.

"We need to talk, Elsie. Now. And I don't care how long it would take. And if this means that you'll miss tea-time at the Abbey, I don't care and so be it!"


	10. Chapter 9 : the talk (part 1)

Chapter 9: The Talk (part 1)

After Elsie noticed her husband was awake she left the bedroom directly and headed downstairs. Charles feared that he had scared her away once more but when he heard the whistling of the kettle some hope came back. He forced himself to wait patiently and a few minutes later Elsie entered the bedroom with two mugs of steaming, hot tea in her hands.

"I got us mugs instead of cups," she stated shyly. "That could take some time to get through."

Charles only nodded and took the mugs out of her hands so that she could climb back into the bed beside him. She quickly placed a pillow behind her back to steady herself and leant against the headboard before she turned to her husband to take her cup of tea back.

They looked straight ahead at the far end of the room and both sipped their tea quietly when Charles noticed his wife wiggling her feet nervously. It was strange that they both felt so nervous to start talking. They had known each other for so long and it had never been a problem for them. What had changed? Was it so different to talk as friends than as a couple? Shouldn't there be an increase in trust and openness that would make talking easier?

Cautiously, he tried to start their conversation while looking down at his tea, "I hope you are not scared of me."

Elsie turned to him with an astonished look on her face, "Why on earth would I be?"

Charles didn't dare to face her, only brought his cup close to his lips before saying, "In what you last said downstairs, last night, you accused me that I would lead you here only to..."

Elsie turned away again. Ashamed of what she had said earlier she wondered how to make it right again while she watched from the window the dawn which was rising outside.

"I am not scared of you, Charles. I never was," Charles noticed her hand stretching out to him. "I wouldn't be here with you if I was."

Relieved he touched her hand softly with his fingertips and was happy to see when she turned to face him. For the first time after what seemed like an eternity their eyes met again and it made a little smile appear to on his face.

"Well, this sounds like a start to talk," he said and his smile suddenly disappeared again. Although he knew that it was so very important for them he was so scared of what laid ahead of them. He wanted answers but would he like them? "And we should talk, Elsie, shouldn't we?"

All Elsie could do was nod. She felt tears forming in her eyes again. Feelings of shame and tears of fear appeared and like her husband she didn't know where this conversation would lead to. How would he react if she told him that she didn't trust him about his past with Alice? Would he see it as treason against their vows? Charles felt his wife was getting upset again and he was afraid that she would turn away from him before their conversation could start, so he dared to reach out for her hand. Elsie didn't pull away and he put her small hand into his large one and stroked softly over her knuckles.

"Why don't you start and tell me what upset you so very much. And if anything were to come up where I could add something to it or set something right, I will do."  
As a signal of agreement she squeezed his hand and looked away at her feet again. She inhaled deeply and then she pushed out the words she held inside her for so long, "I heard you talking about Alice."

Charles had expected much, but not that. And the surprise shown all over his face when his eyebrows rose. "And I didn't like it," Elsie added quickly, before her husband could open his mouth to talk.

"But when did you hear that?" he stuttered confused.

"Here at the house."

"But when were you here?" Charles asked, getting more and more agitated.

Elsie looked down and bit her lower lip. The she looked up at him again, "Charles, when you said you would add something to it I didn't know that it would be question after question right after every sentence I say."

The invisible finger pointed at him, Charles knew that it was on him to be quiet now and let her talk, "I'm sorry. Please go on."

And Elsie did. "Mrs Patmore covered for me on Saturday night so that I could sneak out to the cottage to visit you and Mr Grigg. It was meant to be a surprise... and I have to admit... it was also out of a bit of curiosity to see how the two of you were getting along."

"Why didn't you show yourself when you were here?" The question formed in his mind Charles did hard not to spill it out loud and closed his opened mouth again when he saw Elsie's stern look in him.

"I entered exactly that moment you were talking about the showgirls, Alice and..." Elsie blushed, but Charles' look and the desperate need for answers written all over his face let her continue, "...and the length of their knickers."

Charles had to swallow the huge lump in his throat. He felt ashamed of what his wife had heard and was afraid of what was to come, so it appeared to him that it was definitely the perfect timing to say something, "That must have been awkward for you."

"To be honest, Charles, I was shocked. Watching you drinking whiskey and hearing your talk about the length of a woman's knickers. Never thought you could do so."

For a second Charles was disappointed that Elsie didn't see such manly behaviour to be in him, but it was forgotten when he saw her serious look and her sad eyes.

Her voice almost broken when she continued, "Not if the most of what you did those days was 'almost courting' her, as you described it to me long ago."  
Charles remained silent while Elsie fully turned towards him, "Tell me Charles, how can a gentleman, who didn't dare to ask a young woman out and lost her to his best friend a while later, know about the size of her knickers?"

Still lost for words, Charles turned away from her and placed his mug on the bedside table only to turn back again to fold his hands on top of the bedcover. "Only if that gentleman turned out to be a terrible fool," he said quietly.

Now it was Elsie who had the lump in her throat. He didn't deny that he knew about Alice and her... She closed her eyes. She didn't want to say that word again. Not loud and not even quietly in her mind. Not now.  
"So you lied to me, Charles?" she asked, her eyes still closed. "Saying you didn't even dare to court Alice. Instead you knew her so much better. I don't know why you couldn't be honest with me."

Although it was the most inappropriate moment Charles couldn't hold back and had to chuckle. Feeling his wife freeze in disappointment beside him, he turned fully to her and locked eyes with her.  
"I didn't lie to you, Mrs Hughes," he deliberately used her maiden name, since their conversation, years ago, took place when she still was Mrs Hughes. "I lied to THEM. To Grigg. The men. And I betrayed and used Alice in the most disgusting way."


	11. Chapter 10 : the talk (part 2)

Dear readers.

This is going to be the final chapter of my first multi chapter story.

I'd like to thank you all for your kind reviews and patience - that you gave a newbie a chance.

For me it was so much fun writing it. But I would like to thank my beta reader dreamfandomist so very much for the wonderful support. Would have never made it without you. THANK YOU !

Now I hope you'll enjoy the end ... of an old tale.

Chapter 10: The Talk (part 2)

"You would never do such a thing, Charles Carson!" Elsie almost shouted out.

Charles felt ashamed. He felt even more ashamed than he did all those years ago when he'd received Elsie's gift, the framed picture of Alice. When she'd forced him to keep the memory of Alice alive. A memory he'd tried so hard to forget. For a good reason that he was not able to reveal at that point.  
Long after he had left Elsie Hughes' sitting room he was still looking at the photograph. A picture of their last meeting reappearing on his mind. When she had let him go, staying with Charles Grigg while he had decided to return to Downton. With destroyed plans and hopes of building a family - with her.

Charles was pulled out of his memories when he felt Elsie's hand on his arm and her almost harsh voice

"Tell me that you'd never do such a thing, Charles. And that this is only your point of view in a very unpleasant story in your life."

To Elsie's surprise Charles chuckled again. And she was even more surprised when he swung his legs out of bed and got up. Placing his hand on his forehead he turned back to his wife.

"How long have we known each other, Elsie? How many times have you caught me telling a lie?"

Elsie's surprise turned into shock that made her speechless. She didn't know how, but she must have reopened an old wound... a wound that she thought was healed.

"You told me once that you don't lie Elsie, that you only don't say everything. Don't you think that I have the same right?"

"Of course you have, Charles," she whispered.

Charles' voice rose. Too many emotions surfacing at the same time.

"No, it seems that I don't have that right. You made me talk about it all those years ago and you are making me talk about it now. Although I told you over and over again that I want to forget it."

Charles locked eyes with her, but Elsie couldn't stand it. She had brought it all up and now she didn't know how to handle it. Tears appeared in her eyes and she felt the bed moving. Charles was sitting at the edge, his face turned away from her. She could hear his heavy breathing and she so much wanted to wrap her arms around him and to steady him. But she was so scared that he would push her away. So she didn't dare.

"Just like you I was raised to be a reasonable person," she heard Charles begin to speak again. "And soon I had a fixed position in His Lordship's household. Hall boy, then footman... and soon I heard them talking of promoting me to become under-butler and valet to his lordship. I know that you'd say now that it was only proof of how satisfied they were with my work. A compliment for a young man of my age."

Elsie decided not to verbally agree with her husband. She wanted to hear the whole story and she gave her husband the time to gather his thoughts to continue.

"But that wasn't enough for me, Elsie. With every compliment I felt more and more disappointed. Something was missing. In the village I saw the other lads flirting and courting young girls. Having a laugh over a pint in the pub while I was having tea in the servants hall,"  
He paused for a second.  
"It was a shock to my mother when I told her that I wanted to leave for London. A shock and a disappointment. But I left. And soon after my arrival I met Grigg, the theatre people… and Alice. And it was so different, Elsie. So much laughter and life all around me."  
Charles' voice was as light as a feather when he talked about it.

"Only… at night after the performances, when they went out to have a drink, when the men started to talk about their amorous adventures, the vulgar gossip that appeared after a bottle of whiskey…" Charles turned and looked at Elsie. "I couldn't do it."  
His voice broke and he turned away again.

"I couldn't talk like them. Talk about women in such a disgusting way as they did. I was honest when I said I didn't dare to touch or to talk to Alice. But that made me an outsider to the other men. And I'd been an outsider at Downton all my life - I didn't want it to be like that there as well."

He lowered his head sadly and Elsie lifted the blanket slowly, signaling Charles to slip into the bed again. Finally sitting next to her, leaning on to the headboard, he took her hand slowly and started playing with her fingers.

"I believe that in my mind I had already decided to leave again and to return to Downton when that evening came. We had had a successful night on stage and everyone was a bit overexcited. I had a few drinks with the boys when they started that talking again, this time I felt the need to join them. So I sneaked back inside the theatre where the girls were still changing in their dressing rooms. And I peeked in through a keyhole... to see Alice in long, violet knickers with lace. She looked so beautiful and it took a while for me to catch my breath."

Elsie had to swallow a lump in her throat but tried to be a decent as possible. Hearing her husband talking about a woman her once loved wasn't easy at all.

"When I returned to the boys and heard them talking about size and looks of - you know - I pretended that… „OF COURSE I know about it!" I shouted out. I was so proud to tell my story that I didn't notice the boys had stopped talking and laughing. And it was far too late when I saw that Alice was standing at the doorframe behind me. She had heard all of it. The moment I looked into her eyes I knew that I had lost her forever."

Charles felt the strong grip on his hand and he continued

"The next day I gave in my notice, Grigg got a new partner... and Alice too. And I returned to Downton, sure that going another way and living a normal life was not an option for me. To hide behind propriety and rules was the only salvation for a fool like me."

With a small smile on his face he turned to Elsie again.

"And your words - that I would bring integrity and honour to the house - only proved that it was the right choice."

His eyes and words softened even more when he continued, not breaking eye contact with his wife for a second.

"I got so scared when I noticed that I felt so much more for you. I was so scared that I'd mess it all up over again if I even tried."

Charles took Elsie's face in his hand and stroked her cheek.

"Your patience with an old fool like me, your devotion and the unconditional love you showed me gave me the strength to get it right. And that's why I love you, Elsie. Because you see something in me that I can't see. Because you proved to me that it's there and you helped and steadied me to bring it out. To be a far more better man than I was all those years ago in London."

And then he kissed her giving all his newly revealed feelings into it. When they broke apart he leant his forehead against hers - like he did after their first kiss.

"But forgive me, love. I will never ever be able to admit this to Charles Grigg. That's why he got the knickers story Saturday night."

Elsie had to laugh.

"You don't have to, Charlie. It's enough that I know this side of you. Please, never stop talking to me. Let me help you to be yourself. Listen to me and please steady me when I get scared. Charlie, promise me that we'll never stop talking."

And now it was Elsie's turn to take his face into her hands and the loving look in her eyes almost melted away all insecurity left in Charles.

"I love you, Charlie. The way you are, the way you were… and the way you will be. As long as I would be a part of it."

Charles leant against her.

"You are every part of me, Elsie... always," he whispered when he laid her down onto the pillows.

And he saw her body, her mind and her soul.

Felling his solid body opon her she heard the beating of his heart ...and this time she understood.

The end  
... of old tales and new beginnings to feelings to live.


End file.
